Special Delivery (The Great Outdoors Book 4) by McClendon Shayne

Author:McClendon, Shayne [McClendon, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Always the Good Girl LLC
Published: 2013-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Shania was confused. “You own what company?”

“The courier company. I own it. I was filling in for the other couriers when they got food poisoning.”

“You own the courier company? You’re not just a bike messenger?” He nodded and she whispered, “Wow. Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

“I…” Confession was harder than he thought it would be. “There are several reasons. I didn’t want anyone to think you were just another woman.”

Her eyes widened. “I never would have thought that.”

“My life is strangely complicated. You might not think like that but some people do.” He lifted her shoulders and pulled her hair out from underneath her. “No matter who I stand beside, the gossip pages link me to them romantically. I didn’t want you to think that was who I was.”

“Gossip pages? Is your messenger company successful?”

He rubbed his brow, trying to find the right words as his body came down from the most incredible sexual event of his life.

Spencer was fully aware he was fucking the explanation up.

He had to tell her all of it. “Do you recognize me at all?”

Laughing warmly, she retorted. “Of course. I’ve drawn you a million times, Spencer.”

“Look past your muse for a moment, love. Look at me and put me out in the world as a stranger to you. Have you never seen my face?”

A small frown formed between her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know my last name?” A hot blush crawled up her chest and enveloped her face. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.” He held her face. “What we have is different, Shania. Do you believe that?”

“I believe it.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve forgotten your last name. I’m sorry.”

“When I introduced myself, I told you I was Spencer Krupin but Krupin is my great-grandmother’s maiden name. That was the only lie I’ve told you and it’s important that you know that.” Staring into her eyes, he said quietly, “My name is Spencer Bishop III.”

Her entire body stilled instantly. Barely audible, she said, “Bishop Memorial Wing, Bishop Computer Systems…that Spencer Bishop III?”

“Yes.”

“But…you’re a bike messenger. You deliver and pick up my packages! You can’t be that Spencer Bishop. He doesn’t have time for that shit.”

“I bought a courier service before my grandparents passed. I wanted to try something new before I took the reins of the company. I’m not an idle trust fund baby.”

Her green eyes widened with what he thought might be terror. For almost a minute, she didn’t speak. The confusion on her face was reflected in the utter stillness of her body beneath him.

Then, “You’re Spencer Bishop? Upper East Side Spencer Bishop? Haven’t you been one of New York Magazine’s most eligible bachelors like four years in a row or something?”

“Yes.” Spencer smiled gently.

She stared at him the way she did when she sketched him. “I’ve seen pictures of you. Photos never even captured my attention. I barely spared them a glance the hundred times I’ve had them shoved in my face. I would have recognized you. There’s no way.

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